mental link: D46

[erbier]

[ A gasp, a whisper of something where there had been a stark silence before, and then a pull. A grasp from the deep, leveraging its way from beneath the water only by pulling down another.

Precarious, but harmless as she awakens, her siren call weakening as she breaks the surface, at last. Awake. Everywhere and nowhere, unshielded. Reborn again upon the shores. ]

ooc; newbies should stop her anywhere for action, and anyone who wants to greet her face to face should juuust say so and I will tell you where she is at that moment. she's not really controlling what goes where so threadjack away.

Comments

[frakkincylons]

[ the second he feels her mind wake, and the connection through the brood echo and hum in the familiar way sam's come to associate with ilde and ilde alone (a hand that clings, that pulls, that drags down to keep what's precious fiercely close), he's dropping whatever he's doing, and closing his eyes to reach back for her.

a gentle pass of his mind against hers, and a calm, fond 'good morning'. there's relief in it, and a blossoming happiness just to have her filling that quiet part of his mind that had been missing her. hello, little sis, did you have a good nap? ]

[erbier]

[ Ah. Something of hers, she winds herself into it comfortably, the harmonious vibrations of brood. She sees their brood like a complicated series of colored strings that wind around them all in many directions, making a powerful mandala in the depths of their minds, their existence. The colors of it flash in the back of his mind, the different strengths and textures of the strings which are made of love, compassion, stubbornness, vengeful, and all of their other interlocking traits.

Her love for him pulses. She is so happy to be awake.

How had she let herself sleep so long? ]

[snaphiss]

[Mara feels a familiar tingle at the back of her mind, comforting and, surprisingly, asking for nothing. It's not who she thinks it is, but all the better. She sends her own message.]

( How do you feel? )

[erbier]

( Mara... )

[ Soft and groggy, and as though she must verify to herself who is who. ]

( Strangely. As though I went a very long ways, but travelled no where at all. )

[snaphiss]

( I'd hate to suggest you need more rest. )

( Are you still in your room? )

[deployed]

[ There's no verbal message conveyed, just a questioning nudge in return to the slow-growing awareness Ilde projects. The absorbed sensation has him inhaling sharply, even safely ensconced in his room with a book open over his chest. ]

[erbier]

[ She seeps in like smoke, a floral scent muddled in ash and earthiness. Like a cat arching out a stiff body, she stretches in to him, filling nooks and crannies with her presence and her curiosity, catching hold. It lacks the malice that such a pressure could take on, has a languid thoughtlessness for a long moment until she seems to pay more attention to what she is doing. The pressure decreases and instead has a sated friendliness.

It is good to be awake. ]

[deployed]

[ Her presence isn't unpleasant. (She isn't seeking, isn't rummaging through his memories.) For a long moment his mind is full of her; she teases out the sense memory of cool rainfall on skin and the fresh scent of the Earth opening up beneath the deluge. He radiates welcoming warmth back to her, like sunlight on an upturned face. Having her presence tucked in close amidst his thoughts, still spinning with mythology, sates an instinct Bellamy often tries to ignore.

There's no verbal acknowledgement, just a soft, welcoming hum as Bellamy turns to the next page.

[headinjuries]

[ It's a relief to realize she's awake again; the worst part of the comas, Sam thinks, is not knowing when or whether someone's going to wake up again.

Uncertainty sucks. ]

( Hey. )

[erbier]

[ Ah, her little Sam. She knows how he feels. She has watched those she cares about rise and fall, and others who have never risen again. She expands that compassion, swaddles him up in it for as long as he lets her. ]

( I am here. )

[headinjuries]

( I'm glad you're up. We were worried. )

[tropism]

[ it's the first time he's experienced someone coming back from sleep. the feeling is familiar. he had come to associate it with colours and scents, now, and there is a feeling of warmth that is sent back to her as she sends her call. ]

( Welcome back, Ilde. )

[erbier]

[ His warmth is like the sunrise on her face, helping to shake away the drowsy cobwebs of such a prolonged distance. Helping, but not sending it truly all away. How unpleasant it had been, to return to a place where she did not have the Hive. ]

( Hello, Gio. I missed you. )

[ Not just him. All of them, but it applies. ]

[tropism]

( So did I.

Things are getting busy again. )

[ with the mission and all, especially with that fundraiser coming up. he wonders if ilde is still alright with being "saffron", or if that's a thing she's going to retire for now while she's been away. it seems like they've been stuck with their identities here for the longest time. ]

[circumspector]

[ And there she is, as soon as Ilde is awake, her clinging vine, all wrapped and draped around her the first chance she gets when they have a measure of privacy. ( what is privacy in the hive? Nor are either of them particular caring. Less to do with shame and more to do with her own covetous nature, she suspects, about for a moment, demanding an utter lack of sharing ).

It does not need to be said, quite truthfully, the thought is there in the warmth of her lips. Spelt in the brush of her cheek against her hair, the curve of her lips at her ear and the thud, thud, thud of her heart inside its ribcage.

I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. ]

[erbier]

[ Like being hit by a wave, swallowed up by the ocean, all that there is between herself and Angel comes back in flood. She does not know how Angel had managed this sensation, the reigniting of all that is felt amongst the brood after a vast and numbing darkness. Ilde wraps the other girl up in her arms, taking in her kiss as much a necessity as breathing. ]

( I'm so sorry. )

[ She hates the idea that she was not there for Angel for even a moment. She knew the loneliness, and while she could handle it, she did not wish it on her friend. ]

[circumspector]

[ She presses into her as close as she can, a shift to press thigh to chest to Ilde in a needful, mournful noise. She had kept it so close, her absence, given everything, the first person she wanted to turn to was Ilde, if only to work through the crueller parts of herself. She doesn't care though, now she's back. Kissing is less about the curiosity of before, and this is nothing less than needful, affirming. She's still here, and they're both still there. Her fingers, mercifully clean for once, curl up in her clothes. ]

( It's so good to hear you again. )

[ A clumsy word for too encompassing a feeling. ]

[decommission]

[ A flicker of surprise, then a rush of warmth flows along their link. Relief.

He knows he won't be the only one to flood her with welcome, and though he wants to come find her he waits, lets her have her time with those others first. To have the place in his head where she inhabits no longer sit so cold and silent is enough. ]

[erbier]

[ She doesn't let his relief go unacknowledged, catches on to it lightly, her attention and appreciation cupped around the burst of his affection. Her favorite seedling, growing so well into his place in the brood, the hive. She wants to see him sooner rather than later, and seeks him out. An obvious hunt, following the pattern of threads that makes their brood what it is. She is a part of that web again, thank whatever god is true. ]

Steve.

[ She wants to hug him but they are not all that physical, so she hesitates for a moment before opening her hands towards him in invitation. ]

[100mitsubishis]

[Another thread snaps awake within the web and Kavinsky lulls his head on his shoulder. He was walking down a city street, but now he's stopped, taking himself away from the path of flowing foot traffic to calmly feel this new connection. He twangs it like a guitar string. His lips curl.]

( Hey. )

[erbier]

[ She is too adrift to particularly care that she does not recognize this boy. He is of her Hive, and she lets her curiosity run amuck, seeping in to him, looking for any place to peer inside, anything interesting to grab hold of. Her presence is floral and smokey in one, a bed of flowers bathed in the ashes of a thousand fires. ]

( Hello. )

[ It echoes, more sentiment than word. ]

[wrackful]

[The pull catches him as he's just stepped in the elevator, enough of a distraction that the doors slide shut without him hitting a button. Something in him responds instinctively, gripping back, offering an anchor, braced to help on the climb up.

Recognition flickers secondary, uncertainty following. They're not brood and he barely knows her. This probably isn't a call she wanted him to pick up.]

[erbier]

[ This one. She had wanted to grab hold of him before, but he had spooked and pulled himself back...

Well, he has provided now. Like taking a hand to steady her while leaving a rocking boat she uses it, and then lets him go. It would hardly win his trust to abuse the kindness now, but her attention remains, a softly fragrant smoke; flowers and earth. ]

( Thank you. Hello, John. )

[inflori]

[ She worms her way into his head, too, as all hosts will inadvertently do. Petre is filled with hatred in an instant, struck right out of the silent comfort of believing the bitch would stay asleep forever. Without any effort to reach back, he simply bleeds out an uncontrollable jolt of petty aggravation and gets on with his day.

(She was right. His mind is infectious, even when he's not trying.) ]

[erbier]

[ She grabs hold of his hate like one would snatch a snake, looking it right in its ugly little eyes. She detests him just as much, it is their way with each other now, almost comfortable in its infernal heat. He should have killed her while she was sleeping, who is to say she won't pass up the chance when it is his turn. ]